


Let Me

by merrythoughts



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrythoughts/pseuds/merrythoughts
Summary: “Hey, I noticed Christmas has apparently fucking landed here,” Will comments, placing the bags on the counter. This is a conversation he never thought he’d be having with Hannibal, but here they are...





	Let Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2017 [Hannibal Holiday Exchange](https://hannibalholiday.tumblr.com/) for [Aysenur](http://hannibalsfan.tumblr.com)! She requested something cheesy and while this is not my forte, I tried to do it justice... ٩(⚙ᴗ⚙)۶
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS! ♥

Will’s never cared much for Christmas. Christmas is materialistic, the huge influx of diamond advertisements, the greedy children, the focus on finding the perfect gift (or else). Christmas is also gaudy, all the blaring lights, the overplayed music _everywhere,_ seeing Santa’s image plastered like he was the next famous popstar. It’s all unrealistic expectations, manufactured cheer and Will doesn’t care for it one bit. The fact that the holiday season seems to start as soon as Veterans Day is over also irritates him. Poppys discarded, most people were thrilled to drag out their decorations and somehow it's all jingle bells and extended shopping hours and now everyone is more than willing to donate to their local food banks (but screw ‘em afterward).

Granted, he’d grown up with a very different type of Christmas. As in, very little holiday cheer. No Christmas tree, no decorations, and if he was lucky, he’d get a single present. Will wants to claim that he turned out just fine without celebrating the not really Jesus’ birthday, but… he’s currently residing with a notorious serial killer, so maybe he’s not a great example. (He’s sure the two do not correlate.)

He’s adjusted enough. They have a partnership. Hannibal behaves. They only kill those who deserve it and they do it together. It’s a little more elevated than simply killing the rude or on a whim, and Hannibal gives this to him. Because relationships are about compromises and they both know that. After everything they've been through, they're both a little more willing to be flexible. Life is better with Hannibal than without. Being right and having things only his way, not so important.

This is their first Christmas together. Will doesn't expect much fanfare. He agreed to allow Hannibal a fancy dinner, one where there's multiple courses and a damn fancy table setting and whatnot. Something never change, Hannibal still likes his theatrics and Will isn't going to be a dick about having a Hannibal-themed meal once in a while. Will can still appreciate the time and effort going into it.

It's two weeks before the 25th and Will is walking back from the markets, long dark grey overcoat, scarf and gloves trying their best to keep him warm. He turns down their block and is immediately greeted to their home… which is now quite thoroughly decorated. It's like Christmas has puked all over it, actually. Red and green twinkling lights accenting the windows and eaves, fucking lit-up reindeer on top of the roof, their trees wrapped with blue and white lights with a cult of inflatable snowmen surrounded by presents. There’s also an elegant looking wreath hanging on their door, as if Hannibal needed to have one thing that at least was him.

Will is gaping at the display, his eyes darting over each and every horror, not quite sure how to process it all. Apparently Hannibal had been A) rather sneaky with hoarding away all of this shit and B) busy this afternoon. Eventually his legs get moving and he approaches his once subdued, but well kept home. He can’t begin to imagine the expression that’s on his face as he approaches the door and inserts the key into the lock. He lets himself in, placing his few bags on the floor and stripping himself of the extra layers, making sure to place each article in its appropriate spot.

He picks up the bags and makes his way to the kitchen where he knows Hannibal will be.

Christmas has apparently found its way inside as well. There’s Santa figurines. There’s garland. He passes the living room and there’s, of course, a real Christmas tree. The smell is divine, but it’s still a full fledged decorated Christmas tree with a few presents tucked underneath already. There’s a wreath above the fireplace.

What. The. Hell.

“Hey, I noticed Christmas has apparently fucking landed here,” Will comments, placing the bags on the counter. This is a conversation he never thought he’d be having with Hannibal, but here they are...

Hannibal is by the stove, tending to whatever scintillating dinner concoction he’s working on. Will begins to unload the groceries -- a task will help him.

“During our sessions, I remember you mentioning you never celebrated the Christmas holidays growing up,” Hannibal replies, not in the least bit ruffled. At least not yet. If Will keeps cursing, Hannibal may comment on it and that could be fun.

“So? I don’t need it,” Will responds, perhaps a bit too quickly. It’s strange to have his familiar environment - their _home_ \- transformed into some holiday-infused special and he especially doesn’t like that Hannibal did it _for_ him.

His reply has Hannibal placing down the spoon, turning around and facing him.

“No, you don’t, do you?”

Will meets his eyes, not impressed. “No, I don’t,” he reasserts stubbornly.

Hannibal’s eyes look warm. Too warm and it makes Will’s hand pause in reaching for the next item. The expression is familiar: patient, kind, but not placating. Hannibal merely smiles, a small, gentle thing that Will wants to tear off of him. Will stands his ground as Hannibal steps toward him, but already he feels the pull. Like magnetism, he feels drawn to Hannibal, and it’s only worse when he feels out of sorts.

“I want you to have it,” Hannibal says simply, his hands coming to rest on Will’s hips and pushing him against the counter. Hannibal is apparently looking to sooth his frazzled nerves with a bit of tactile comforting, but Will doesn’t know if he’s exactly in the mood to be receptive. Still, he doesn’t fight the hold. Hannibal’s body pins him there, but there’s no threat. It’s warmth and sturdiness that _does_ comfort him.

“It’s gaudy and it isn’t us,” Will tries next.

“Is that so?”

Will frowns. Hannibal leans in and kisses him anyway. “Let me give you this,” Hannibal murmurs against his lips and Will lets him.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblrrrr](http://merrythought.tumblr.com), bitches.


End file.
